


S.O.S

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body Modification, Gen, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: So many moods that you could changeSo many thoughts you’d rearrangeSo many rules I know you’d bend….





	S.O.S

What if happy endings had a chance?

What if they had escaped, together? Instead of Glitch- no, Damus, instead of Damus reaching into a darkness his optic couldn’t pierce and pleading for a savior. Pleading for an ally.

Begging whatever God had abandoned him once before to forgive him, just this once, and let him go?

Wailing as they tore him down, down to bare components and insecurity, only to rebuild him in a new cage- hands he did not know, a spark he did not want; his shaking servos stroke his face and feel lines that are not him, that are not who he is.

He is Glitch, he is Damus, he is loved, he is loved, he is loved….

_But are you?_

They do not beat down his resolve with a battering ram, they do not give him chances to rebuild walls around what’s left of himself. Instead, they break him down, brick by brick and beam by beam until the shelter he built of blue plating and a scientist’s voice is nothing but rubble around him.

_If you are So Loved, then where is He?_

He looks to violet scientist in anguish.

The unchanging optic stares back at him. Solid gold, a hunter’s moon, a harvest of more than life- but self-worth. Glitch stares, and optics that are too new to cry are already shrink-wrapped in an attempt.

“He will come, he will save me, he always has-”

_Will he?_  asks a voice devoid of warmth, of care,  _Would he not already be here?_

Glitch silences his vocoder and looks away.

_Have I ever lied to you, Tarn?_

“I am Damus. I am GLITCH-”

_You are who I create you to be, now._

Damus looks up, fear scratched into his spark and faceplates.

_Answer my inquiry- Have I ever lied to you?_

“No.”

_Then why would I lie now? He is not here, he is not coming. You are alone, with only myself and the Cause left for you. You were abandoned, Damus… I am. **Sorry.**_

The optic’s stare seems to to soften- in pity, Damus knows it well. He knows that pathetic stare, having seen it so many times aimed at claws where hands should be. Aimed at his once solitary optic in a hood-shaped helm…

Skids never pitied him, never.

_‘But Skids isn’t here now, is he?’_ , asks the traitorous voice in his helm, born of sudden doubt,  _‘No one is left but you, and Shockwave. Shockwave, who convinced the enemy to save you; Shockwave, who took you in once before when NO ONE wanted you.’_

His spark is breaking apart, and oh, it hurts. Shockwave’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, and Damus hangs his head.

“He… He may still…”

_If he were planning on saving you…. He would have done so already, do you not agree?_

Shockwave lifts Damus’s face, finials tilted back.

_Now you must save yourself. And I will help you._

And so passes Damus into obscurity; murdered on a slab the second nuke flooded his lines-

And thus was born Tarn; broken sparked, broken soul, and soon broken faceplates that felt more like home than the clean and smooth faceplates he had been given after being recreated.

And he became vengeful, he became hydrochloric apathy and bitter sadism dressed in purple and razorblades and he detroyed betrayers without mercy- His pet sin to punish, a deviant behavior he knew oh so well.

Because he too, had been betrayed. Betrayed by sky blue and bellowed laughter. Betrayed by crooked smiles and promises he now saw as empty.

And then… he came back. And Tarn smiled like death behind his Plaguebringer’s mask as he began to plot- as revenge ate away at all that was left of Damus, kept locked away somewhere secret and safe in his spark and he watched with glee as Skids did as Skids would always do.

Tarn watched as Skids tried desperately to save souls he deemed innocent.

And Tarn watched as Skids splintered in the glow of a smeltery, and laughed in sick victory.

Because now, now Skids would understand.

He would understand how it felt; for your final S.o.S call to fade into cold obscurity, and for your sense of self to fade with it.

_**So all good things will find their  
End ** _

* * *

    


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